


Rückblick

by AntisocialHistorian



Category: The Alienist (TV), The Alienist - Caleb Carr
Genre: Angst, I don't think this has a happy ending, Laszlo is entirely oblivious until he's not, Laszlo is kinda dark, M/M, Poor John, Sad John, Unrequited Love, Why Did I Write This?, spoilers for EP8 and EP9, this was based off the carriage scene and kinda spiraled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-03 14:19:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17285669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntisocialHistorian/pseuds/AntisocialHistorian
Summary: John had moved on. That was the simple truth.  There was Julia and although that had failed and he had spent his time buried in alcohol and high end brothels, he still had the advantage that he had moved on. Then, he had moved on to Sara - who was also uninterested in John romantically. But he had moved on.Until he knew he hadn't.Because Laszlo started seeing Mary.





	Rückblick

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the Alienist or its characters. I only own the dark parts of the storyline.
> 
> Laszlo's kinda OOC but there we go, I twisted his grieving process slightly because hey, my muse wanted angst.
> 
> This is some really weird angst. I kinda proof read it? It's 6 AM

Life was strange. It warped itself and threw events that  _should_  be impossible in every way but somehow came true - such as Laszlo getting a girlfriend. John reflected on the conversation that he and Laszlo had; initially John had held blank shock (he'd suspected of course but Laszlo with a  _girlfriend_?) and the blank shock was offset by a sharp bolt of  _something_  that John had never really bore witness to. It was a mesh of the most painful emotions that the human could muster and the fact the pain didn't stem from the thought that Laszlo could have been seeing Sara was a thought that John didn't care to think about. John suspected. There were obvious hints on the train because as a long-time friend of Laszlo's, John had never heard such a glowing report on love from his friend, and it was curious that Laszlo had brought it up when seeming so happy. God, John should've known rather than suspected.

Glowing was an odd way to describe the discussion he had had with Laszlo there and back on the train but he supposed it was compared to what Laszlo was usually like. He had told Laszlo to come out with it and Laszlo had and now John wished he hadn't to prolong the discovery.

"I'm not a fool," he had told Laszlo, but now he supposed he was. He felt played without having any real reason to.

John wasn't a dramatic man, but it felt like the world John had carefully constructed for himself, one of alcohol and prostitutes, Laszlo too, had been shaken. His world had tilted on its axis. 

He could recall a rueful smile that had escaped him, maybe too little humour in it to be entirely rueful in nature. He didn't care for the brief white hot jealousy that had flashed through him, it wasn't predominate enough over that whole cocktail of emotions that was impossible to shove out of his mind, a cocktail of devastation to be dramatic. A return to alcohol had been quite a compelling option but he had decided not to. John was at a loss. The jealousy hadn't held much of an effect on him, it was far outweighed. He wasn't like Laszlo, he couldn't bury his emotions or section them off nor could he push it from his mind and he was just stuck.

Laszlo had a girlfriend. John prided himself on the happy act he had held up, the supporting image he displayed for his good friend and John was happy on a level that Laszlo had finally found someone. He was just unhappy it wasn't him. John was confused with his own emotions and there was the weight of the knowledge that he and Laszlo would probably never have another chance. Whether it be Sara or Mary, John had to play along and play an admirable facade. John suspected that he had gotten away with his poor attempt at faking happiness because Laszlo was wrapped in his own bubble of joy.

John would eventually have to play another role of course, one of the family man with children and a high profile or respectable wife, the future he had tried to hold with Julia but had failed. It didn't help that John's love life, in all honesty, had come to a halt after college, despite his try with Julia.

Laszlo had said something when they were resting that bothered John even though there was no reason for him to.

"And naturally, I realise how inappropriate it is," 

That's what Laszlo had remarked. It irked John simply on the basis of jealousy; hadn't he and Laszlo been inappropriate as twenty-something year old lovers in a time the sentence for homosexuality was 50 years hard labour. Though such corruption in the police force would have allowed John to buy his way out of punishment, his only punishment being a fall from social grace. John had long thought that Laszlo's family wouldn't extend that courtesy to their son. It was ridiculous that John compare his former relationship with Laszlo to Laszlo's current one but it was the irrational jealousy that had filled his mind. He just couldn't help but think that he and Laszlo were more inappropriate when they had been 'seeing' one another, after all it was illegal with a hefty punishment and he and Laszlo would never have been able to marry or openly love one another. There was no real point in the comparisons he was making but he did anyway.

Okay, so maybe jealousy was equally as strong.

 He wasn't going to hold Laszlo's new found relationship against him, and so John had given his words of encouragement while jealousy burned alongside the cocktail of painful emotions that weren't wanted in the carefully constructed world that John had made. Laszlo and Mary dating didn't fit his world either but John would have to make room, alter things, coping mechanisms because he couldn't still expect Laszlo to dash to his rescue when he got himself into another fine mess.

Mary had then died and John could say with certainty that the only living person who felt guiltier than him was Laszlo.

 

* * *

 

 

 John was apprehensive about visiting Laszlo. The grief that Laszlo had held had been pushed back by the drive to locate the monster that had prowled their streets, the intellect that could burden him utilised as a distraction. Now his distraction was solved, John wasn't sure what to expect. In the somewhat long friendship that he had held with the socially stunted man, John had never seen his friend grieve, a fact that he was grateful for but it also meant that he didn't know how to begin to deal with Laszlo while he grieved.

While John had little experience comforting Laszlo in such matters, he knew that Laszlo had a wealth of knowledge in handling John's grief which was predominately getting drunk or going to a brothel and sometimes, both. Jealousy and the previous mix of emotions had been replaced in John with pain on behalf of Laszlo and so the drove to reassure and comfort Laszlo like his friend had done for him won out over the anxiety that weighed heavily. He wasn't sure where the anxiety had stemmed from; perhaps, he thought, it came from the lack of experience and the potential to only upset Laszlo further.

Bringing his hand up, John rapped on the door three times and Cyrus opened. The man seem slightly surprised to see John but stood back regardless and allowed John to step through. They exchanged a few pleasantries before Cyrus told John that Laszlo was in his sitting room. Entering, John found a slightly dishevelled man and John was startled to see Laszlo looking so different from how he normally looked on a day to day basis (even if the change was relatively small). His friend was standing by a shelf, staring off into a corner with a book in hand as if he were going to read it but had lost track and began to think of something else and John knew that he was. The room was only dimly lit, the sunlight straggling through the window. John still subconsciously noted that despite his friend's ruffled state, he was still attractive. He quickly chastised himself for it though, now wasn't the time to drown in hopelessly unrequited love. 

"Laszlo?" John said tentatively, trying to shake Laszlo out of whatever deep thought or memory he was immersed in. He spoke softly, as if talking to an animal that would startle easily and bolt. Laszlo did have a tendency to bolt. His friend looked up at him and John held back a shudder at the coldness that Laszlo exerted.

"Hello John. What are you doing here?" 

Laszlo's tone was dull and he was quiet. 

"I just thought I'd pay a visit and see-"  
  
"How I'm doing, correct? Sara thought the same thing as did the Isaacson twins. You're the last to pay a visit. As you can see, I am of perfect condition,"

John bristled slightly, irritation fighting its way up at Laszlo's accusing tone. 

He stepped further into the room, still not quite close to Laszlo but by the small table.

"I would have come earlier but unfortunately I was tied up with other engagements," The word engagement made John's mouth twist down slightly, but he shook it off, hoping Laszlo didn't pay attention to his slight reaction.

"I'm glad that you have been able to find yourself preoccupied with other matters," he replied, sarcasm thick. God, John knew that Laszlo was going to be intolerable, but not as bad as he was being.

"I would have come sooner if I could. I have duties to attend to," The defence was pretty weak but one that was at least vaguely true. There were matters to cover before he could do anything else. Laszlo threw his book down and it landed with a heavy thud that John took as a bad sign.

The overwhelming need to lash out, to spread the pain and guilt bubbled over in Laszlo and John was  _there._  He was the easiest to take it out on, the one that he should lash out at because Laszlo had abandoned logic in order to escape his mind. He turned his knowledge of the human mind on John, seeking to break him down.

 "Tell me John, does this get better? Did it get better for you?" Laszlo spat, hand clenched around an ornament tightly. 

"You know the answer to that. You're the one that cleaned up after me so often,"

 "So I'll wallow in my own self-hatred and drink myself to sleep because I'm not emotionally stable enough to handle it,"

"That's out of line Laszlo," John said, hurt flashing across his face.

"You more than likely feel amazing about this, that Mary is gone! This somehow benefits you!" Laszlo continued, still launching his tirade of suspicions and grief against his good, best, friend (who he was still apparently  _not_  hearing).

"That's  _enough_ Laszlo. I gain nothing from this, I have nothing apart from the knowledge that my friend was stolen of the best opportunity he had before he could ever truly experience it. I cared for Mary too, her death weighs equally on my mind. I gain no pleasure from knowing she is now dead, I gain no happiness as you proclaim!" John hissed back, finally snapping, drawing the line at being accused of benefiting from Mary's death. Mary was  _his_ friend too, he had had his own guilt, Connor and his cronies had stolen a friend from John. They both knew that Mary's death was a result of the Santorelli and subsequent murders and their investigation into them; both he and Laszlo had known that it came with a variety of risks though neither of them had ever expected an innocent to come into the firing line. 

Laszlo didn't seem to care for the reminder of Mary's death as he hurled the object he'd been clasping tightly at a wall, promptly smashing it and taking John aback as he had never thought that Laszlo would grieve in the way he had expressed it, so violently, especially with the report Sara had given him. It had appeared that Laszlo had been accepting Mary's death and preparing to move on, he had given the  _ring_ to John for Sara and if that wasn't an acceptance, the start to moving on, John was unsure of what was. But apparently, Laszlo had lapsed back into his mourning. Laszlo had begun to pace the room, nearing closer to John.

 "Lies John, lies!"

"I  _don't understand_ ," John snapped at Laszlo, anger unbridled and leaking into his words. He crossed his arms tightly, fists clenching and he fought the urge to lash out physically. 

"Are you still haunted by visions of your brother thrashing against the cool water than claimed his life? Do you still see it when you sleep?" Laszlo asked John, malice in his tone. John didn't understand, Sara had told him that Laszlo had been quite mellow when she had visited, more overwhelmed with sadness. Sara had refused to divulge the subject of her visit to Laszlo and John didn't push.

"Stop Laszlo, this is not my fault! If you see fit to exploit my trauma, should I take the time to exploit yours? What your father did to you?" John halted. He wasn't Laszlo, he didn't hold the cruel streak that his best friend had. He wouldn't lower himself. "No, I won't do that to you."

"Are you  _better_ than me John? A better man? More moral? But of course you are, Mary wouldn't have died under your care would she?" Laszlo snarled and John flinched as the sound of glass shattering on the ground reached him. A little ironic, he thought, because he hadn't he felt like those pieces of glass when he found out Laszlo had begun seeing Mary and then he'd been thrown by the revelation that Mary was death?

Laszlo would normally soften as these points, when things had gotten extremely bad, but he still exerted that same air of coldness that he had had before when he saw John enter the room. Instead, Laszlo stalked up to John, their faces having barely room between them.

"That was never said or implied." John replied softly, hurt resident in his heart. He tried to ignore the flood of old memories and feelings that snapped back to him, caused by Laszlo being so close like he used to be.

"Of course it wasn't, you remain the better man, the more noble one," Laszlo replied, sarcasm dripping.

"I can't help you," John told him, exhaling softly and running his hand through his hair, suddenly becoming very tired. Laszlo didn't want John to concede 'defeat' and leave. Laszlo wanted to shove John, hurt him physically but instead he dragged John forward, wanting to find alternate ways to shut out his guilt tangled firmly in his anger.

When lips collided, the familiar heat pooling in the base of his stomach was welcome but still felt wrong at the same time because Laszlo was furious, he was grieving. John scratched the earlier thought off. Laszlo was beyond furious and John didn't know how to handle it for even he hadn't seen Laszlo so angry at the world, at him because Laszlo was cool and collected almost always. It was wrong but John didn't have it in him to reject Laszlo, even if it was right because though this was so very different from what John wanted (the relationship he so desired) and no good would ever come out of it, he would settle for it. He would take what life allowed. Laszlo bit down hard on John's lip, anger leaking over at how the world had robbed him before he'd ever had the chance to explore what he had. John made a noise of pain at the pain that followed, the coppery taste of blood surging forward as the skin was partially torn. He would have pulled away but Laszlo wouldn't let him, keeping him in the bruising kiss.

John wasn't stupid. He knew that Laszlo was taking advantage of his feelings. He knew that Laszlo knew that John still loved him, he knew he was the way Laszlo was drowning Mary out. He was her replacement and God, John knew that, even as Laszlo tried to remove John's shirt with the same amount of anger he had thrown his ornaments, smashing them. And it hurt so much, both at Mary's death and Laszlo's ability to  _use_  him, the fact he loved Laszlo and Laszlo didn't love him. He was for Laszlo to fuck, brown eyes stony and cold. Laszlo was once again taking advantage of John's feelings but John wouldn't say no, by now he had resigned himself to it. Far back in their shared past, Laszlo had once loved John. Now, John was a means to forget, a friend Laszlo would fuck to forget the pain.

John couldn't breathe. He was confined to a life in which he answered to Laszlo when Laszlo no longer answered to him; he would accept it though, if that was what it took to regain Laszlo as  _more_.

"Say no. Say no John," Laszlo told him, breathing ragged.

"You know I can't do that,"

Make no mistake, John wanted Laszlo and he accepted what was going to happen. He had just hoped for more.

**Author's Note:**

> So, while this is depressing, I'm off to be forced to celebrate my birthday. I did have an alternative, happier ending but I've completely forgotten it, oops.
> 
> I hoped this scratched your itch? I'm not sure what kind of itch it'd be, but yes, thank you for reading.


End file.
